Author's Note:

I apologize for not writing in quite some time. Life has been busy and I haven't felt very inspired as of late. However, I still intend to write the next chapter of the circus saga and it will likely come next.

I must first apologize to British readers who find factual or language errors with the English character in this story. I'm not too familiar with English conventions of speaking and know even less about English culture. I tried to keep things as simple as possible, but I must still beg your apology for any errors.

Also, the character's name, Cerys, is pronounced (Kair-iss). So, without further ado, I present you with my Fourth of July story:


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"Cerys! You had better come quickly! There's a mob outside!"

Felicia listened as the door to the guest-room was unbolted, then opened. She gasped to see Cerys not wearing her usual cotton-print work-dress, but instead a fancy formal gown of satin and silk. She asked,

"A what?! Did you say mob?" Felicia told her excitedly,

"Come and see!"

Cerys daintily lifted the front of her skirt as she hurried down the stairway and to the front porch of the manor. When she stepped out the front-door, her mouth dropped open and she held her hand over it in amazement. There was a crowd of nearly half the re-enacting staff of Martinsdale leading what looked to be around two-hundred guests or more outside the front of the manor. Cerys' blood was running cold. Her confusion began to dissipate into clarity when she saw Tyler step up to the front of the crowd and declare in a loud voice,

"Miss Cerys Griffin, on behalf of the good colony of Massachusetts, its citizens, and the Continetal Congress, we have come here to take you into our custody. We have discovered undenial proof that you are not only a loyalist to the crown, but a spy for its military. We have found your letters and the courier by which you sent them, tell us, do you deny these charges?"

For a moment, Cerys had to catch her breath--stunned that this was actually happening. But shortly, she replied in a voice of nearly equal volume,

"I deny it, not! I am proud of the service I have done my country. I would gladly see all of you loud-mouthed, malcontented, filthy rebels hang for your treason." With that, she defiantly stuck her straight, thin English nose in the air and sneered down at them. A great murmur spread throughout the crowd. Shortly, Tyler raised his voice once more and told them,

"She admits to her crimes, my fellow citizens and patriots. These are serious crimes which have placed the lives of every one of you and your families in dire jeopardy. With that in mind, I ask, how should we punish the woman? Surely, we could not hang a woman as fair and delicate as she, no-matter her treachery."

At this, Cerys couldn't help but roll her eyes at his compliment. Yet, she quickly regained character when she heard him say,

"Perhaps a more...humiliating punishment is in order?"

As Tyler and the re-enactors stepped up to escort her down the stairs, she reflected upon the events which had led her into this ludicrous situation.

-------

Cerys' parents had thought she was crazy for marrying Tyler Shanks. When she left for University, they dreaded the two-hour long train-ride she would be away from them. They couldn't believe that in less than a year she would fall completely head-over-heels in love with a foreign exchange student--sending her on a path to being an whole ocean away.

Tyler had all the traits she loved. She found him to be charming--nearly to the point of sounding stupid. Yet, as she got to know him, she found him to be surprisingly quite brilliant--especially in the area of history--an area of study they both had in common. She met him in the University library while studying only two days after the semester had begun. She found there was something annoyingly amusing about the way he mispronounced her name repeatedly--even after learning the correct way of saying it.

The rest of the American exchange students stood apart as having taken strong instruction to be as culturally sensitive while abroad as possible. Tyler was a marked exception. She truly thought it was his intention to drive her mad with his many meme-level pro-American quips and jabs at her for being "English" (though she was Welsh, it made little difference to Tyler). Yet, he was impressed that she returned fire volley for volley with equal intensity. Even as they debated with each other, they immediately sensed that the other shared an equal love of history. So by the end of a heated debate that had somehow started as one on the origins of the cold war and ended on the inciting incident of the Seven Years War, they both knew that they shared a special connection.

What followed was a year's worth of study-sessions, walks through the parks, nights at bars, hikes in the countryside, trips to museums, and as many spare moments as they could spend together. When he left to return to America, Cerys' parents greatly hoped that she would forget about him and move on. Yet, the two kept in touch and the distance DID, indeed, make their hearts grow fonder. He came back to visit her less than a year after he had left. After that, he returned to visit her at least once each year until she had graduated. It was not long after she had graduated that they decided to get married. They were married in Wales and spent their honey-moon hiking through the Swiss Alps. For both of them, it was a wonderful time.

They stayed in England for the better half of a year before Tyler was accepted into a graduate program and took a teacher's assistant position back in America. And so his new bride left with him and began a new life in America. She became an assistant teacher as well at a different University not far from where he worked.

Adjusting to life in America wasn't as easy for Cerys as she had first anticipated. There were many differences between New England and "Old England" and she found that most weren't for the better. This amplified a feeling of homesickness she began to endure which grew in intensity as her stay there was nearing its first anniversary. However, among the better qualities of America, she enjoyed one over all the rest.

Not long before they were married, Cerys made a very interesting discovery about Tyler. She found out that he had a fetish for getting wet and messy. He was already quite the animated character, so him being into such a slapstick-ish kink didn't come as too much of a shock to her. In fact, she found the discovery quite liberating.
She had grown up watching people on television get gunged and slapped with custard pies...and some part of her always wished to be in on the fun. When they finally decided to have a private messy session together, she had not had more fun in her life.

In England, she introduced him to flan, custard, treacle, toffee, and other sources of mess. When they moved to America, he introduced her to sheet-cakes and large bakery pies. She loved every moment of their messy sessions. The aspect she liked in particular was, surprisingly, the humiliation factor. Something about feeling humiliated sent pure lightning through her veins in a way nearly nothing else could. She confessed during one of their sessions to Tyler that she was hoping to find some public way of getting messy, but feared disgracing herself too much. This gave Tyler an idea.

During the summer, while the American University where they worked was between semesters, they worked at the historic, colonial village of Martinsdale as re-enactors. Tyler worked as a tour-guide to the village and as a craftsman. Cerys worked in the main attraction of Martinsdale--the original, colonial-styled manor of the Turner family. She gave tours of the house to guests throughout each day. And one of the busiest days for Martinsdale was the 4th of July. Out-of-town re-enactors, vendors, and many guests would be there for an independence day bash that would conclude with a fireworks show later that night at the side of the lake bordering the village.

Cerys was, however, less than keen on the day's celebrations as they all over-shadowed a different one: her birthday. While Tyler had promised to take her out to dinner later in the evening, they were still needed nearly all day at Martinsdale for the festivities. Yet, rather than continue to give tours, around 2 in the afternoon, something happened that changed everything.

She had just finished giving a group a tour of the mansion and was in one of the upper "employees-only" rooms to have a break before the next round. She was wearing the informal work-garments of a late 18th century colonial house-wife. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. When she answered, one of the interns handed her a note.

"This is from your husband, Ma'am. He told me to deliver it to you right away." He stood by as she read the note. It read:

"Happy birthday, honey! If you're up for getting publicly humiliated today, I found a way to do it without losing our jobs. Circle yes or no. If yes, go to the wardrobe in the ladies' bedroom and put on the outfit I got for you. Be sure to hurry and be dressed in an hour and a half. Don't worry about giving the next tour. I talked to the boss and got you time off for the rest of the day."

The note made her imagination race. "Publicly humiliated?" What sort of humiliation would it be? Pies? Gunge? Water? She had no idea. But something about the idea of getting humiliated that day was enticing to her. That tingling sensation of excitement filled her veins as she nervously marked "yes" on the note and handed it back to the intern messenger-boy.

After he dashed away, Cerys made her way to the women's bedchamber up on the 2nd floor and made her way to the wardrobe. Staring at the large, ancient wooden doors, she pondered what she'd see when she opened them. Would it be a bikini of some sort? Street-rags? Modern, used casual wear? Though she was savoring the moment, she remembered the time-stamp in Tyler's note and decided to throw the doors open. What she saw in the wardrobe made her gasp in awe.

A late 18th century colonial formal gown of blue satin as well as all formal accessories hung in the closet. Whatever mess was in store for her, she'd be fully dolled up in finery for it. She lost no time in getting ready.

Her long, blonde hair was already in an up-do that was tied at the top-back of her head in a large knot. From this knot came two loose, coiled locks which came down and draped over the front of her right shoulder. She first stripped off her work-clothes down to her linen shift--a soft, white undergarment that would serve as the foundation of the layers. She then put on a fresh pair of white stockings which she secured with blue, ribbon garters just above her knees.

She then slipped on a white, linen petticoat skirt that came down to her knees--the first in a series of petticoats. She then put on a second, similar petticoat over-top of it. After that, stays--a less restricting type of corset--was put on. She had to text one of her friends on break, Felicia, to come in and help her secure the straps at the back. Though it didn't warp her body into an hourglass like a corset, the stays were still fairly tight.

Then, she took a thick, round pannier-roll and tied it around her waist. It was a large round roll that gave volume to and padded out the next layers of skirts at the sides and rear. Over this roll, she put on a nearly floor-length, slightly-pleated linen petticoat skirt. Cerys gave a sigh that was nearly a groan when she looked into the wardrobe and found another under-layer petticoat to put on. After putting it on, she found herself getting quite hot despite being in a lightly air-conditioned house. It was an extremely hot July day outside and more than a little humid. She thought, "Is Tyler expecting me to pass out in front of everyone?"

Despite this, she continued to put on the dress with the time beginning to slip by. Next, she secured a panel of silk and satin lined with navy, satin bows to the front of her dress known as the stomacher. This panel started at the chest and came down to a point at the center of her waist. After this, she then put on the gown-petticoat a heavy layer of the ensemble made of a light-blue satin that came down nearly to the floor. Over this went the jacket of the gown. The jacket was made of the same light-blue satin and it included the back and sides of the bodice, sleeves, and a skirt that covered the back and sides. These side-skirts she tied to the far side of each gown skirt to give the sides of her overall skirt a nice, raised, polonaise puff. The sleeves came down to her elbows, then extended a few more inches in large, drooping flutter sleeves made of silk lace.

The gown was of a light-blue color with white-lace trim and decorated at the sleeves with navy, ribbon bows. Around her neck she tied a lace choker with a navy bow in the center. The gown had a very low neckline that came down to just above the lower portion of her breasts. There was no linen shawl provided for modesty--the gown gave an ample view of her somewhat sizeable breasts and cleavage.

Over the back and crest of her head, she put on a white mob-cap with a large, frilled lining and petite, blue ribbon-bow in the center. And on top of her head--over her mob-cap and all, she put on a wide, straw, pancaked-shaped bergere hat. With the hat nearly flat atop her hair-do, she tied the long hat-ribbons together at the back of her head--securing the hat beneath her well-braided hair-knot. She then stepped into a pair of formal, low-heeled blue shoes decorated in the middle with large, ribbon bows.

She gave herself a good look-over in the bedroom mirror. It was quite a nice gown. On one hand, she really didn't want to see such fine clothes get so much as a drop of mess on them. On the other hand, she absolutely loved getting messy when wearing nice clothes. The fancier, the better--and this was the fanciest so far. She grabbed a fan from the closet and began to strut about the room. With her slim frame, pretty features, and bright, blue eyes, she looked like a stylish duchess.

Just as she was really starting to enjoy herself in her fancy, new garb, she heard a knock at the door and Felicia's voice telling her to come quickly to see the mob outside. And now, we once more reach the beginning of the story.

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Cerys was led off the porch by the mob. When Tyler and another re-enactor named Jonothan tried to secure her arms, she protested and said she'd proudly walk to her doom on her own. So, in the center of the crowd, she daintily lifted her skirt a bit and strutted down the stone-street to the center of town. The sun blazed down on the well-dressed Cerys, and she cursed herself for leaving her fan behind. As they walked along, more and more visitors joined their group, and many joined in the center of town. Cerys' nerves grew exponentially as the crowd of two-hundred grew into nearly five-hundred. She was led to a wooden platform set up in the center of town and made to stand before the whole audience. Despite the large, formal dress, the heat, and the weight of everyone watching her, she stood before them not only calm and collective, but defiant and proud.

Tyler shouted, "Hear ye! Hear ye! We have caught a spy working for the crown-- a self-confessed spy! Look upon her: dressed in the finery that her betrayal has bought her." Even as the audience shouted and jeered, Cerys stood calmly with her head held high. She was backed up against a wooden pole in the center of the platform and her hands were securely tied behind it. Tyler then continued, saying,

"It is only fitting that she be dressed as such when taking her punishment. Boys--" he shouted out to some re-enactors at the edge of the crowd, "bring out the TAR!"

Cerys gasped. Her knees buckled together. She gulped hard as her chest began to pulsate with heartbeats. She finally realized what her public humiliation would be. She began to shake with nervous excitement. She watched three pairs of men carry up to the platform three enormous cauldrons filled to the brim with a pitch-black liquid. Between the three, there was enough liquid to fill a child's swimming pool. One of the cauldrons was brought before her to look into. It obviously wasn't real tar by how it neither steamed nor bubbled. Tyler answered the question on her mind when he said to the audience,

"We will not be using real pitch-tar today as that was actually quite a dangerous and hurtful form of punishment. Instead, this 'tar' is a special mix of molasses, syrups, and a black dyeing agent. It's made to be slightly runny and extremely sticky. And in a few moments, Miss Griffin will be covered in it."

There was a special frame set up above Cerys to help them slowly turn the cauldron over her head. They hoisted the enormous pot up above her and readied the ropes that would be used to tip it. A drummer began a drum-roll readying for the drop. Cerys looked up above her and gulped to see that large, black shadow suspended above her. She looked down across the crowd once more as Tyler slowly removed her bergere hat and mob cap. All the eyes of the crowd were on her and the restlessness was palpable. Some were joyfully chanting for the tar to be dumped, but Tyler kept them waiting. She continued to stand tall and firm in her ornate shoes as she awaited her fate.

Finally, Tyler called out and asked her,

"Any last words before we proceed?" Even as she was breathing heavily, Cerys responded,

"Indeed! I say God save the King!" Tyler smiled. The crowd knew it was soon to happen now. Cerys, incredibly hot, looked up at the cauldron above her once more and wondered how the tar would feel? She then looked across the eager audience once more as she heard the drummer strike up a final roll.

The roll came to a stop. She looked at Tyler. He smiled. His hand began to tighten on the rope to the cauldron and slowly tug at it. A hush fell over the audience. Cerys couldn't help but look up. She saw the cauldron tipping ever-so-slowly. Millimeter by millimeter it moved until she felt something cold touch her fore-head right between her eyes. She couldn't see it, but it was a pin-head sized spot of black tar. This was followed rapidly by three larger drips. Cerys saw a stream cascade down toward her right before she closed her eyes. "Here it comes," she thought.

The crowd erupted in roars of laughter and cheering as the black tar flowed down like a thick, gloppy slime. Cerys looked straight up into the downpour--covering her pretty face entirely. Cerys' first sensation was feeling just how nice and cool it was. It was strangely refreshing to her. She looked down from the spewing tar to open her mouth and gasp. The black ooze quickly crawled its way down her chest and into her funnel-like cleavage. It was dripping down and soaking the base of her skirts at the waist. Every moment, it slid further down her dress and body and began to cover every inch of her.

Eventually after what felt to her like an eternity, the stream stopped. With her hands tied, it took quite a few moments before she could see again. The last bits of tar just dripped down from the cauldron onto the tip of her poor head. Her hair and head were thoroughly soaked in that horrid liquid. It was sticky and continued to slowly ooze down her face and all over her even as she stood there. She licked some from off her lips. It was not only cool, but quite sweet as well.

Before she knew it, the next cauldron was loaded and dumped all over her--this time a bit faster. The black ooze poured down in thick waves of gooey, sticky mess. She was now almost completely drenched in the tar. It had soaked her outer garments thoroughly and was beginning to make its way through her dress layer by layer. Black tar flowed down her cleavage until it over-flowed--creating a deep well of syrup-y mess. Though this channel and other cracks and seems, her body was feeling the cold, slimy syrup as it slid lower to cover her lower portions and legs.

Layers of dripping tar glistened in the hot sun as the last of the 2nd cauldron fell. The crowd continued to laugh and jeer as she stood there nearly shivering. She groaned and moaned--trying to sound completely disgusted. But a discerning ear would have found that some of her moans didn't sound so unhappy. She was completely covered head-to-toe in the thick, black gunk. Heavy waves continued to drip down from her soaked hair and forehead over her eyes. The slimy tar had permeated her dress entirely and was sliding down her body nearly to her knees.

As they loaded the third cauldron, she begged for no more tar. But as she did this, she looked to Tyler with a subtle wink which he didn't fail to take notice of. Tyler then took her mob-cap and shoved it down over-top her head--covering her eyes. The crowd laughed to see her so humiliated. After that, they poured the third cauldron over her head--instantly turning the soft, white mob-cap a sloppy black.

As more and more tar poured down, she found herself covered like never before. There wasn't a spot on her now that was not a dark, shiny black. Her hair atop her head felt matted and stuck together. The ooze had fully gone down her legs and managed to squeeze into her shoes. Her whole ensemble felt ten times heavier than it did before--with the skirts no longer puffed outward and now sagging right to the ground. There seemed to be no end to the cool, messy, sticky tar as it just kept pouring down, down, down.

Finally, after being drenched in tar far beyond anything she had imagined, the final cauldron dripped out its last drops on her head. The audience cheered. Tyler got their attention and said,

"Now, to make this woman into a proper hen..."

Cerys heard the crowd chanting for feathers not long before Tyler removed her mob-cap and she was able to finally open her eyes again. When she finally looked, she saw four re-enactors carrying up enormous sacks of feathers. These sacks were stuffed to the brim and had words like "down, duck, and goose" on them. The men began to rip the sacks open, and the next thing she knew, the men approached her with a huge load of messy, white feathers in each hand.

What started as merely spreading feathers by hand turned into target practice as the men pitched handful after handful at Cerys. She was engulfed in an enormous whirl-wind of feathers--ranging in size from myriads of near-microscopic down to large duck feathers. She shut her eyes as they kept coming and had to constantly spit feathers out of her mouth as they came. As she moved her arms and neck ever-so-slightly, she could feel the gooey tar take on more and more feathers until it was no longer a slick surface. The moment a bit of feather would touch her tar-covered body, it would remain there without fail. Clouds of feathers continued to get dumped on her.

When they had run out of feathers, not an inch of her wasn't completely covered. She was reduced to a large, shivering, white bird before the audience. They clapped and applauded to see her cut loose from her bonds and stumble a little forward. They laughed as she kept trying to spit feathers out of her mouth. She tried her best to wipe her eyes clear, but tar from her brow just slid down and brought more feathers with it. She was now considered to have been officially and publicly tarred and feathered.

She was helped off the stage by Tyler and a partner of his so that she wouldn't slip. From there, she began the walk of shame to the putdoor shower. A good portion of the crowd followed and jeered at her as the "big, white bird" tried to take flight. Despite being now lined with layers of feathers, her skirts were still heavy with tar dampening and she tripped as she tried to get away. However, despite the laughter, she picked herself up and got to the shower near the exhibit building on the outskirts of the town.

When she got there, she turned on the nozzle only to find that it was not in working order. She frowned as she realized that this meant she'd have to trek back through the village to find a hose on the other side of town. Then, at that moment, she looked over at the horse-stables and noticed a large, long metal trough of the horses' drinking water. This gave her an idea. She then started running, took a very low leap, and fell down into the trough.

-----

Tyler had caught up with Cerys after her "bath" and helped her to their car. The tar was so sticky that the bath didn't nearly wash off all of feathers and gunk. Still, she was clean enough to go home and that she did. After emptying the trough and cleaning it out for the stable-master, Tyler found an interesting text on his phone:

"Cancel dinner reservations. Don't come back until 9. I have a surprise waiting for you."

After that, Tyler sighed and hoped the "surprise" wouldn't be divorce papers. After all that had happened that day, he wondered if maybe he had gone a bit too far. He took an Uber back to their apartment much later after helping his co-workers get ready for the fireworks show. Although Tyler always hated to miss a good fireworks show on the fourth, he had a feeling the real fireworks were awaiting him at the apartment. Right at nine, he arrived ready for the worst.

He walked into the kitchen and found it very dark. He called out for Cerys before flipping on the lights. When the lights came on, he was stunned to see ten pies covered in generous amounts of cool-whip topping lining the kitchen counter and aisle. He saw next to them emptied cans of blueberry filling, cherry filling, and apple-sauce. As he gazed in amazement, out of the shadows of the living room stepped forth Cerys.

"Cerys? Wha--?! Your hair! It's so clean and shiny!" He had immediately noticed that her long, blonde hair was down and looked to be dry and completely unsticky. "How did you do that? No offense, but I thought it would take a little longer to get the syrup out and the hair looking that good again." She laughed lightly, then said,

"I have my methods and products." Not only was her hair nicely styled, but she seemed to be wearing makeup with blue eyeshadow and bright, ruby lipstick. Beneath her neck, she wore a silk nightrobe. Beneath the bottom hem of the nightrobe, she stood in red high heels. Cerys came up to Tyler and proceeded to hug and kiss him with no small amount of passion. She told him,

"I had always dreamed of being humiliated like that, but I never thought something that wonderful would actually happen. I enjoyed EVERY SECOND of that tar and feathering! It was quite the birthday gift." Tyler then smiled and told her,

"Actually, that wasn't your full birthday gift, let me go get it real fast in my room." Cerys told him,

"I'm afraid you can't. The living-room is completely covered in tarps at the moment--walls and all." Tyler smiled,

"Well, then I'll just tell you. I got us two airline tickets for London next month. We're gonna take you home."

Nothing can quite describe just how happy Cerys was when her eyes lit up and she flew to Tyler after he said that. She hugged him, kissed him, and thanked him for what was the absolute best birthday gift she could have received. She then said,

"I wanted to thank you for earlier, so I decided to make some pies for us to play with. Also..."

She took off her silk robe and Tyler's jaw-dropped when he saw what she had hidden. She was wearing a star-spangled bikini. She gave a cheeky smile and said,

"I thought you'd appreciate it." Tyler smiled. He then grabbed one of the cherry pies on the counter.

While others were off enjoying fireworks that night, Tyler and Cerys were enjoying fireworks of a different kind.

Happy 4th of July, everyone!